Good Times Bad Times (You Know I've Had My Share)
by LaueHime
Summary: Two-parters based on LJ prompts. Two times Sam is hurt. One time Jess takes care of him, one time Dean takes care of him. A lot of embarrassing facts and teasing ensue. Full prompts inside. Rated PG for language, and mentions of adult themes.
1. A Cure For the Itch

**Title: **A Cure For the Itch (Part 1 of 2)

**Author:** LaueHime

**Genre/pairing:** Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Sam/Jess

**Characters:** Sam, Jess

**Rating:** PG + for slight adult themes.

**Word count: **2,410

**Summary:** Prompt: Stanford era, Sam/Jess. An embarrassing accident happens and causes Sam a bad allergic skin reaction. He doesn't want to tell Jess, which is made even harder when she's all turned on and trying to turn him on as well. He looks like an ass and she's just sad... but then she finds out and takes care of him. Bonus for kinky!Jess.

**Disclaimer:** The show belongs to Kripke.

**A/N:** Written for my comment fic meme on LJ. This is a prequel to the next chapter, which I actually wrote first in response to a prompt. When you read it, you'll understand why I had to write this prequel.

SPNSPN

He's completely drenched in cold sweat when he lets his shorts fall to the floor. His shirt follows. He finally slips his boxers off. Sam has just gone for a run around the block. He's ready to hit the shower if he doesn't want his girlfriend to be grossed out by the stench of his perspiration.

He turns the shower on and slips under the water. The first droplets turn frigid against his warm skin. The cold sweat runs all the way down and disappears into the drain. He can finally enjoy lukewarm water on the surface of his skin. He goes for the soap only to find that there is none. He turns around and checks the multiple bottles in Jess's rack. There are all kinds of perfumed body lotions and shampoos, but no soap.

'Crap' he mutters. He thinks there must some in the pharmacy above the sink, but he's soaking wet and he doesn't want to get out of the shower. He doesn't like to steal his girlfriend's stuff but it's right there.

He grabs a bottle and reads the label quickly. It says 'cleanser' so he figures it must be some kind of soap and pours a considerable amount into his hand. The smell is slightly chemical, but he doesn't pay attention to it.

After his shower, Sam ties the towel around his waist. Jess has a class so he's home alone. He walks into their room and rummages through his drawer for a pair of clean boxers. He then moves to the closet and grabs a clean jean and a hoodie.

He settles on the couch once he's dressed and pulls out a sociology manual. He's got pages left to read for his next class, without mentioning the essay he needs to write afterwards. He focuses on the text and loses himself into it until he hears the door swing open.

"Hey Baby, I'm home" Jess calls. Sam hears her take her shoes off. He springs from the couch and rushes to meet her.

"Hey, Beautiful. I was just missing you" he greets with a loving smile. She smiles right back.

"Oh yeah? Well here I am. We can make up for lost time" she proposes with a joyful wink. Sam's smile spreads across his face.

"I'd love that" he murmurs, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. She leans into his tall frame and cranes her neck towards him. Sam feels Jess' fingers running into his damp hair.

When they break away from the kiss, their eyes are shimmering. Jess suddenly notices something sticking out of Sam's sleeves.

"Hey, what happened to your arm?" she asks with sudden concern and reaches out for his arm. She pulls it towards her so that she can take a look at it.

Sam looks at what she's pointing at. That's when he sees the reddening skin on his forearm. Her scrutiny makes him uncomfortable. They've just started dating and he's never let anyone but Dean look him over for injuries. He doesn't care that his girlfriend is in medical school. It just doesn't feel right.

"It's nothing. I took a really hot shower, that's all" he tries, pulling his arm away from her. He rolls his sleeve down before she can protest.

"Uh, okay. If you say so…" she concedes, not completely convinced, but not trying to make him uncomfortable either. She still doesn't know him too well and he rarely talks about himself.

"I'll check out what we have in the fridge if we wanna eat tonight" she pretexts to get away from the awkward interaction. Sam nods. He makes a detour to the bathroom.

Once he's locked in, he rolls his sleeve back up to his elbow. There's a dark patch of red skin on his forearm. It feels hot to the touch. He frowns before taking the hoodie off and studying the visible parts of his body. He's got patches of red skin on his arms and chest. His stomach ties into a solid knot.

The red skin is warm and somewhat itchy. Sam frowns when he feels the discomfort under his jeans. Could it have gone all the way down there too? He jerks his jeans down and curses at the sight of the same awkward patches on his legs. His eyes widen when an idea crosses his mind. He dares a look into his boxers and – Oh my fucking God!

He tries to swallow down his rising panic. He doesn't know much about skin infections and the mysterious rash scares him. He wonders if he caught something while he was running. Could it be poison ivy or something like that? He hopes it's going to go away on its own. If it doesn't, he'll have to tell Jess. He might even have to go to the local clinic. He's not too excited about telling Jess. If she finds out, she might freak out.

The rash itches and gets more painful in the next hours. Jess doesn't seem to notice. Sam tries to be subtle when he needs to scratch. The last thing he needs is Jess asking questions and finding out. The most worrisome fact is that the patches go down all the way to his…

He plops down on the couch and pretends everything is fine while watching the news channel. It's something he does every day. When Jess asks, he says he's just collecting knowledge. What he'll never tell her is that he needs to do it in case they say something about his family being caught for fraud or worse: getting killed.

"Sammy" she asks warmly. He turns his head around at the familiar nickname and his eyes widen when he sees her. Jess is leaning against the door frame. She's obviously fixed her hair and she's wearing a (very short) night robe. It's translucent enough that he can see her lingerie through it. 'Shit' he thinks. He can't tell her about his…

"I've really missed you too, today" she admits, walking to him and climbing on his lap. She's facing him and her fingers find their way through his bangs. They go down to the back of his neck. He tries to look away, but he doesn't want to hurt her feelings either.

"You… you're beautiful right now" he tries, showing off a half-bright smile. He's still trying to look away when she starts to kiss his neck. Excitation flickers inside his body, but he tries to resist. He can't let her see his…

"But I… I can't… 'm sorry" he stammers.

She pulls her head back and stares at him with a questioning look. "What? Why?"

He shakes his head. She has this way of making him hate himself more than he already does. "I… have an exam tomorrow morning. I gotta go to bed" he lies. She rolls her eyes and smiles.

"Oh but that's fine! We can do it quickly" she proposes with a wink. He can hardly resist and it takes all his willpower to shake his head.

"I really can't. I'm tired. I'm very sorry" he blabbers, awkwardly pulling his long legs from under her. He sees the hurt look on her face and he hates himself a little more than he did before.

He runs to the bathroom and takes a look at his body. The rash has spread. The skin has darkened and the itching is slowly turning into a simmering burn. 'What the hell' he mutters, pulling at his skin. He wonders if he's contagious. He doesn't want to inflict this to Jess. He'd hate himself too much if he did.

He puts on his longest pajamas and drags his feet to the living room while holding a pile of blankets and cushions. Jess spots him and crosses her arms over her chest at the sight of him.

"What are you doing?" she asks sadly; as if pushing her away hadn't been enough…

"I don't want to wake you up tomorrow. I'll go to class early because I want to study a little more" he lies again. He feels terrible for making up stories.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch! I don't mind if you wanna sleep in the bed" she tries. He can see that she's silently pleading him. It stabs him a little deeper to be hurting her that much.

"I'm okay" he says, lying on the couch. His legs are so long they dangle on the side of the armrest. Jess rolls her eyes.

"Baby, you won't be comfortable here… that couch is too small for you anyway" she points out. He can tell she really wants to help but he can't risk infecting her. He sighs instead and closes his eyes, ignoring her last comment.

"'night" he whispers.

"Good night" she sighs sadly. He hopes it'll be better in the morning so he can apologize for being an ass.

It doesn't. When he wakes up the next morning, his skin has started to blister. It hasn't spread but he has the feeling that it will. Panic fills his insides with ice. He wants to throw up. He can't hide it anymore.

He walks out of the bathroom sporting a dejected face. It's early in the morning and Jess is still in bed. Sam drags his feet to the couch and lets himself sink into the cushions. He loses track of time until Jess enters his blank field of vision.

"Sam? Baby?" she asks with a voice filled with concern. He blinks up at her.

"You're still here? I thought you had an exam this morning" she continues. He realizes he has no idea what time it is.

"What time is it" he croaks out.

"It's nine thirty. You're late for your exam!"

He shakes his head. "No exam… I lied" he confesses, his voice breaking from the weight of his lies.

"What? Why?"

His bottom lip starts to tremble and he tries to bite down the shaking.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Jess asks suddenly, seizing the bottled up emotions that her boyfriend is trying to hide. That's when his eyes really see her. All she can see is fear.

"Please, tell me! You can trust me! Does it have anything to do with yesterday?"

He nods. It really does have _everything_ to do with it. "I… I don't know what's happening to me" he stutters while pulling his sleeve up. Her eyes widen. 'Oh my God' she breathes out when she sees the blisters and the peeling skin.

"What is it?" he asks. She can tell he's terrified and she feels the need to reassure him.

"It's an allergic reaction. Does it hurt?" she questions. He nods.

"Is it contagious?" he dares ask. She looks up at him and notices guilt in his eyes.

"No it's not. Is that why you slept on the couch?" she tries. Suddenly his actions start to make sense.

"Maybe" he whispers shyly. She rolls her eyes.

"You dummy! I would've told you this yesterday if you'd just said something about it! Why did you hide it from me?"

He starts to shrink in front of her. He feels bad enough without her confronting him about it. "Didn't wanna gross you out…" he admits. She rolls her eyes and slaps him on the shoulder.

"I'm in med school, jackass! I could've helped! Now we do need to get you to a doctor"

He agrees to let her drive him to the nearest doctor. Jess waits in the waiting room. He comes back out with a prescription for ointment and a face purple with shame. He also passed some tests to find out what he's allergic to. He's been told they'll know within a couple of days.

When they get back to their apartment, Jess insists on helping. Sam concedes and hands over the cream. "Where do I need to rub?" she asks with playful eyes. Sam feels like they're playing doctors. Instead of replying, he takes his shirt off. She hisses at the amount of burned skin patches.

"Gee, Sam. That must hurt"

He looks up sadly and then tugs his pants down. Her mouth gapes at her new discovery. "Poor Baby" she feels for him while starting to rub his shoulders and then his arms. He feels better just by having her around. Had he kept it hidden, he'd be alone with the ointment and his pain.

"I'm sorry for turning you down last night" he finally apologizes shamefully.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. I understand" she assures. His heart warms up. She's still there and she's taking care of him. She's not disgusted or running away either. He can trust her. He should have.

"You're too good for me" he murmurs. She smiles and a soft laugh escapes her lips.

"Maybe I am. You're gonna need to buy me a lot of flowers" she jokes. He knows she is because she never uses that tone unless she's teasing.

"Maybe I will" he shoots with a smile tugging the corners of his lips. She starts to rub the insides of his thighs. Technically, he _does_ have a rash up there. But still… The softness of her fingers sends chills to his spine and back, where her skin touches his.

"Do I need to rub anything else?" she asks hopefully. His face falls and he almost chokes on his own saliva. Yes, he does have hives in _that_ area. She can tell from his eyes. He doesn't need to say anything. She grabs the hem of his boxers and tugs them down.

A kinky smile makes her lips curl. "You know this doesn't have to be _completely_ bad" she winks. He now knows without the shadow of a doubt that he's found the woman of his dreams.

"You know I need to use this ointment many times a day" he informs, flashing a sly grin. "Doctor's orders" he adds. She laughs playfully.

"Nice try" she replies teasingly.

When the doctor calls back a couple of days later and informs him about the Sulfacetamide in the cleanser he's used, Sam knows two things. Firstly, he can't tell Jess that he stole her cleanser and got this rash because of it, and secondly, he's already figuring out his silver lining in the whole ordeal. Hadn't it been for this quite embarrassing incident, he wouldn't have realized just how blessed he is to have Jess in his life.

Who knows, maybe one day he'll propose to her.


	2. You Know Me Better Than I Know Myself

**Title: **You Know Me Better Than I Know Myself (Part 2 of 2)

**Author**: LaueHime

**Genre**/**pairing**: Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Family, Gen

**Characters**: Sam, Dean

**Rating**: PG for a few f-bombs, drug and sexual references (nothing graphic though).

**Word** **count**: 2,076

**Summary**: Written for senberet's prompt on LJ "So! Sam is maybe pretty banged up after a hunt, or perhaps he's got something else going on that needs to be checked out, and while he's filling out paperwork Dean keeps correcting him because of course Dean knows more about Sam than Sam does himself.

Bonus points for Sam trying to argue that Dean is wrong ("I'm not allergic to that"/"I never had surgery for that"/"I never came down with that" et cetera) and Dean having to bring his brother down memory lane, so to speak."

**Disclaimer**: The show belongs to Kripke.

**A**/**N**: This is the second part of this series but, like I said, it was written first. There's a slight mention of the events in the previous chapter so you'll understand why it had to be written. Enjoy this second and last part.

SPNSPN

Sam cradled his broken arm to his chest. The ER waiting room was full enough that he hadn't even seen a physician yet. All he had to spend time with was a stack of forms to fill. Dean was holding them since Sam obviously couldn't proceed to write down the answers.

From experience, he could tell it was a break. At least it was clean. Still, it wasn't something they could fix with dental floss and whiskey in a motel room so, despite their aversion for medical facilities, they couldn't deny that they needed help for this one.

"So what are our aliases this time?" Sam winced, moving his arm in discomfort.

"Today we're the Gallaghers" Dean replied without looking up from the forms.

Sam stretched his neck over Dean's shoulder so that he could read his brother's scribbling. His eyebrows shot up when Dean wrote his height and weight without even consulting him. He hadn't exactly hopped on a scale as of late, but Dean's estimations were worryingly spot on.

"Alright, they wanna know where we live" Dean looked up from the paper. Sam's face scrunched from the pain as he stared back.

"What's Sam Gallagher's address?"

Dean smirked. "Some lame neighborhood nearby… you know, white picket fence and all"

Sam snorted. Faking insurance data was second nature to them ever since they were old enough to follow their father around on the hunt.

Dean jotted an address down. Their scam didn't matter too much to them since they would be long gone by the time the Hospital verified their information.

"Habits of consumption? Hmm… that's a hard one. What would you say? Light weight category?"

Sam shrugged, slightly enough to not jar his injury. "I'm not you, Dean" he pointed out.

Dean's smile stretched. "Damn straight! But still… c'mon! You were in College! You want me to believe you've never been tripping?"

The youngest stared with wide eyes before expelling a drawling sigh. Dean shrugged his shoulders in disbelief.

"Not even a join?" he pressed, surprise filling his face. Sam didn't reply. He simply looked away.

"You're such a geek" Dean teased, which earned him a snort from the petulant child he had for a brother.

"Next question?" Sam tried, hoping to get on to the next subject. Dean rolled his eyes and returned to the paper.

"Uh… they wanna know if you've been physically abused in the past year" Dean read out loud, a hint of irony tainting his voice. Sam snickered.

"How many lines do we have to answer this question?"

"Obviously not enough" Dean huffed.

Sam tittered. On its way out, it turned into a silent cry of pain. Dean's head snapped to the side.

"Hey, you hurtin'?" His eyes showed nothing but concern. For a second, Sam wondered how his big brother could go from cocky to mothering in such a short amount of time.

"Yeah" he admitted shyly. "What d'you think," he added to look tougher than he felt.

Dean scowled. "I'll get the nurse. How come they didn't even check you out yet? They should at least give you something"

Sam shrugged and winced at the pain that burned its way up his arm. "It's…not… that bad" he breathed out.

The eldest didn't look convinced. "Right. Let me get that damn nurse. Trust me, you'll be getting the good stuff any second now" Dean promised, jumping up from his seat and storming towards the desk. At first, the nurse didn't notice him. Dean waited outside the door until she turned her head but she didn't.

Impatience started to gnaw on his insides. He tapped his feet and increased the rhythm and force of the hits with every second that he didn't get her attention. She looked anywhere, but at him. Annoyed and increasingly frustrated, Dean cleared his throat noisily. The nurse finally noticed him.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"My brother's in pain" Dean stated.

"Has he been assigned to a physician?" she asked mechanically.

Dean felt himself boil. "Not yet" he breathed through gritted teeth.

"Then he must wait…" she started, but she never got to conclude her statement.

"Look, I don't care about protocols and about one must speak to one and authorize other one… my brother is. in. pain. You're a nurse, help him"

The nurse shivered under Dean's glare. She had the feeling that even security wouldn't handle this one. She figured she might as well give the guy what he wanted.

"How bad is the pain?" she asked softly, her tone suddenly not so mechanical.

Dean sighed. "My brother's huge. He's a tough guy… Damn hard-headed too. If he says he's in pain… then it must be pretty bad"

She nodded. "Okay. If you calmly go back to your seat, I'll bring him something"

"Alright" Dean said, spinning on his heels. On his way out, he turned one last time. "Uh… thank you" he stammered, bowing his head awkwardly. He missed the comprehensive smile that lit her face. That guy was just a very protective big brother after all.

Dean returned to Sam and sat next to him. Sam had tried to go on with the forms. His handwriting was hardly decipherable. The eldest grabbed the pad from his hands.

"Hey, hands off! Are you trying to hurt yourself?" he asked, batting Sam's hand away.

The youngest rolled his eyes and flashed his typical bitchface. "Those are MY forms, Dean"

"Yeah, but I'm still gonna fill them with MY hands since YOUR hands are too precious" Dean teased. His little brother snorted.

"Alright, where were you at?" the eldest asked, eyeing the part that his brother had tried to fill.

"Medical history" Sam reported. Dean was already checking the answers over.

"Vaccines?" Dean asked, seeing that Sam had tried to write something but hadn't finished.

"Yeah…" Sam said shyly. Dean took a deep noisy breath.

"Okay, which ones are you not sure about?" he shot, knowing his brother too well. He actually knew Sam more than Sam knew himself sometimes.

"I got my Hepatitis shots, didn't I?"

"Yep. A when you were fourteen and B the next year"

Sam nodded as Dean wrote it down.

"Tetanus?" Sam asked.

"That too. When you were eighteen and got bit by that dog. We all got it that day for precautions" Dean explained as he scribbled. His eyes kept going over what Sam had written while he was gone.

"Dude, you're not allergic to Sulfa…ceta…mide" he suddenly said, stammering over the name.

Sam huffed. "Yeah, I am"

Dean frowned. "Dude, what the fuck is Sulfa…ceta…meta…the fuck what?"

The youngest rolled his eyes. "It's antibacterial medicine, but apparently some soap companies use it. Whatever, it doesn't matter" Sam blushed as he had a flash of how he found out about the allergy.

"Oh, but you forgot Amoxicillin" Dean pointed out.

It was Sam's turn to frown. "Wait, what? I'm not allergic to that!"

"Yes you are!" Dean replied adamantly. His little brother was puzzled.

"How would you know?"

"Well, how could I forget? Let's say it almost killed you" the eldest growled. Sam was all the more confused at the fact that he couldn't recall anything about it. He figured it's not the kind of event that he would be likely to forget, had it really happened in the first place.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Dean sighed and leaned against the back of his seat. His eyes shimmered with something that made Sam shiver. "When you were four… you had a bad infection. You were so sick, dad drove all the way back to Bobby's after we called him because you'd spiked a fever. You wouldn't wake up… They gave you Amoxicillin at the ER and you had an allergic reaction…"

Sam looked at Dean and then at the floor. He hadn't known. What if he had caught another bad infection when he was in College? He wouldn't have known to warn the doctors about the drug.

"Okay… how come you guys never told me this" he asked softly, his eyes searching for his brother's. When he found them, they were pleading for understanding.

"Man it was the first time I saw dad cry. Even though he was trying to be strong, I could still see how scared he was… he was terrified…" Dean recalled, chills crawling up the bottom of his back and dancing along the length of his spine.

Sam swallowed. Anything that revolved around John was still a subject that got him to his emotional places. The idea of his father crying over him felt foreign to him. Maybe he should have known his dad back then… he wouldn't think of him the way he had over the past years.

The nurse broke the silence when she reached them with a cup of pills and water.

"There's no Amoxicillin in there, right? He's allergic to it" Dean jumped in immediately. The nurse smiled at him.

"No, it's just a regular painkiller. Don't worry. He'll be allowed to have something else once he meets the doctor" she informed.

Dean nodded. "When will that be?"

She looked around at the crowded waiting room and shrugged. "I'm sorry but I can't tell you. It's a busy night" The smile she offered was sincere and comprehensive.

The eldest frowned with a quick peek towards his brother's obviously swollen arm. "But he's got a broken arm! Can't you take him in?" His tone was starting to level up. Sam glared at his brother, urging him to calm down.

"I know and I'm very sorry… but I also have a woman who's been beaten almost to death, a kid with a cracked skull and a man with a severe spine injury… and that's just the ones that we're seeing right now… I know it's not ideal but we're doing everything that we can" she assured.

When he heard the report, Dean stiffened. After years of taking beatings over beatings, he still hadn't been in a situation near as bad as the people who were in that ER. Why had they tempted fate so many times and came out of it with mostly bruises and cuts when innocent kids got their skull cracked? He found himself at a loss of words, which was a rare occurrence for him.

The nurse nodded and left them alone once again. Sam turned to his brother. "I can wait, you know. I'm not dying…"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I know. Let's uh… fill this… get it over with" he moved his head to the incomplete forms. Sam smiled softly, secretly content with the comfort his brother provided and just how much concern he was given.

"I'll tell them to not give you Morphine" Dean finally stated when he saw the space allowed for personal notes regarding the drug section.

"Why?"

"Dude! I had enough of you on Morphine that one time you broke your leg when you were fourteen!"

Sam grimaced. "Hey, I was in pain" he justified. Dean snorted.

"No way! You were so high a kite, there's no way you could've felt even your own body!" the eldest recalled.

"I wasn't that bad" Sam retorted, trying his hardest to preserve what little dignity he had left.

"Sammy… You screamed for hours that you couldn't feel your legs so that the hot nurses would rub them for you… you skanky little perv…"

Sam frowned deeply. For a moment he looked confused, but then a light bulb went on in his eyes. "Dean, that was you"

Dean's face straightened. "No way" he giggled nervously. A grin broke across Sam's face.

"Oh yeah, it was totally you! You'd broken two ribs and cracked three when that poltergeist threw you into a wall. I had to spend the night in the ER with you and you basically had the hots for everything that so much as moved"

Sam chortled in amusement at the sight of his brother's reddening cheeks. Dean was totally embarrassed but, in the mean time, he noticed that his little brother didn't seem to mind the pain so much anymore.

Sam's laughter was like music to his ears. He hadn't seen his brother laugh like that in a long time. Finally, he gave in to the joke and started to giggle along.

Sam was still hurt and the waiting room was still crowded, but at least they had the whole night to share stories and memories about the good old days.


End file.
